Whispers
by Ellen Lily
Summary: This is a three-shot about Tonks and others opinions on her. It involves her first day as an Auror, her learning about the order, and her first day back on the job after being injured during the Battle at the Ministry. The whispers of her co-workers change tune over the story ark, but their opinions aren't the only ones that change.


**Disclaimer: I hope to one day write fan fiction about my own published work. Today is not the day.**

**If there are spelling errors I apologize, but the part of the brain that dictates spelling never developed in my head and this has not been proofread… Enjoy!**

First Impressions

The first thing she did was spill the coffee. But not only did she spill the coffee; she managed to spill the coffee on four senior Aurors and a stack of important paper work with one miss-step. It was pretty much a summary of her entire life.

"Nymphadora Tonks," one of the coffee victims intoned dryly. He was the only one of the four she knew and unfortunately she had a history of causing Savage personal injury with her clumsiness. The first time they'd met, she had stepped on his foot, burned his robes, and fallen on top of him. Needless to say, she wasn't his favorite person.

"Ummmmm Wotcher," she gave a cheeryish smile and Savage glared at her with a 'the Auror qualifying tests need to be reevaluated if _you_ managed to get in' glare. It was her first day as an official Auror, well first hour, and she was already proving her incompetence to him and getting on the bad side of the other three wizards.

It wasn't that she was a bad Auror, in fact, at the end of her training, the infamous Mad-Eye Moody, had studied her intently for ten minutes, given her a curt nod and said "You just might survive." Which, coming from Moody was like getting a giant bear hug and assurance that one could capture five dark wizards with one curse. That being said, she'd never mastered the whole first impression thing…

The only man in the immediate vicinity that wasn't covered in coffee cleared his throat and offered her his hand, "So your Nymphadora-"

"Tonks!" she insisted a little forcefully and then had to put a gallant effort into keeping her hair from changing to a blushing red when he gave her a startled look. She continued in a meeker tone, "It's just Tonks. My first name is horrendous."

"Okay…" he proceeded to introduce her to the coffee stained men. One of them, a dark skinned wizard named Kingsley Shacklebolt, glared at her so murderously that she was worried he may burn a hole through her forehead. His impressive size and 'I've seen battle' eyes were intimidating to say the least, and her usual unabashed attitude withered slightly under his pointed stare at her vibrant green shoulder length hair. Maybe she should have toned it down that morning…

After she had acknowledged the introductions she quickly retreated to her desk and noticed that her shoulders had drooped significantly during the confrontation. She drew in a breath and gave herself a mental pep talk. _You graduated top of your class from Hogwarts, retrieved top marks in all of your N.E.W.T.S, and was handpicked to train with Alastor Moody, one of the best Aurors of the generation. So you spilled coffee on four of your superiors and ruined a stack of important reports, you are still one of the best trainees and could probably beat most of these old timers in a duel if you put your mind to it. You could even beat that Kingsley fellow in five seconds flat. Okay… maybe not that, but with some more practice…_ She forced her mind from the incident and looked at the stack of paper work she'd already been given to fill out. Yay.

She finally finished the forms required for new Aurors and blinked as another pile of papers dropped in front of her. She looked up to see Shacklebolt glaring down at her.

"Find something to do with these," he ordered.

"Yes, sir," she replied respectfully, but he didn't seem to be entirely sure of her sincerity because he continued his death glare. She noted that it was mostly pointed at her hair.

She smiled at him cheekily, "What don't like green?" He looked at her blankly. She scrunched up her face and could feel a slight tingle as her hair changed colors and lengthened. "Which color would you prefer?" She now had waist length hair stained with every imaginable color in every conceivable shade. He didn't comment but simply stormed off. "Guess not."

She decided she needed to go to the bathroom before starting on the next stack of forms and pushed to her feet. She was halfway to her destination when her chronic clumsiness struck again.

'Dominoes' was the first word that Tonks could think of when she finally landed on the floor after her seemingly endless fall. After tripping she had grappled for something to steady herself and her hand had hit a plastic fork from someone's lunch that was balanced perilously on a desk. And, well, Perilously was one of Tonks' middle names, along with Clumsy, Dangerous, and Falling. The utensil had flown across the room and landed on an U.M.A (unidentified magical artifact) that had just been brought into the office. It exploded. Now, the room looked as though a tornado had been released within it and then twenty dark wizards had stormed the place. _Perfect._

After the two disasters Tonks hadn't left her desk the entire day. Now, the work day was over and it was time for the walk of shame. She gathered her things and could feel the stares boring into her.

"Savage says she regularly does things like that," a voice whispered.

"You think Moody said she completed her training just to get rid of her?" another inquired in a low voice.

"Obviously clumsy."

"Look at that hair."

"How did she pass the stealth exam?"

"Rainbow? Wasn't it green earlier?"

"She's a metamorphmagus."

"Two-faced."

"Tripped over nothing."

"The only reason she's here is because she can morph."

"A dark wizard would hear her coming from a mile away."

"She won't survive a year."

"Won't survive a month."

"A week."

Tonks heard it all, and she didn't lie to herself; every comment hit her like a curse. But she kept her cool and pressed her lips together stubbornly. She straitened her shoulders and walked from the room with as much pride as possible. Their whispers meant nothing.


End file.
